


The Choices of Spring

by EternalSurvivor



Series: Mythological Indulgences [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Anal Fingering, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), M/M, Rough Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 07:11:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19718746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalSurvivor/pseuds/EternalSurvivor
Summary: God of Spring Iruka has some decisions of his own to make, the ramifications of which begin to arise when his father comes to take him home.





	The Choices of Spring

**Author's Note:**

> Is everyone ready for some more KakaIru Mythology smut? The warm weather put me in the mood to write something naughty. I hope you all enjoy this part as much as you have the previous two.

The Lord of the Underworld lingered in the athenaeum’s doorway, half hidden in the shadows of his own creation, a silent shepherd at the mercy of the single, luminous light in his life, _Iruka_ . Returning to an empty bed gouged shards from the carefully wrapped sagacity he tucked so meticulously away. Hashirama’s summons blazed vividly for what it truly was: an admonition.

Light held no place in the Underworld.

_Iruka held no place with him._

“Oh, Kakashi.” The God of Spring glanced back, lips curving into a pleasant smile. Sepia locks hung in a heavy plait over his shoulder, moist from bathing. Loose strands curved against bronze cheeks, framing the lovely face Kakashi’s fingers itched to cradle and caress. “I hope you don’t mind I took a bath.” His cheeks flushed, accentuating the scar across his nose. “I woke up quite sticky.”

Kakashi stepped from the doorway, mismatched eyes sweeping over the room. “You’ve been busy.”

The smile broadened to a grin, dimpled cheeks ignited the yearning that simmered just beneath his skin. Once more that radiating light coaxed him forward from the clutches of Isolation and Regret. Wrapped in silks of cerise and azure, Iruka turned readily into his lover’s arms. “Do you like it? I thought the place could use some life.”

Kakashi hummed thoughtfully, though the sound resonated in his chest as a deep rumble. Dracaena and golden pothos twisted amongst his literary collection, blooming bromeliads crimson amongst the pages. He brushed pale fingertips over the silver queens accentuating the door frame. “Clever choices.” Spider plants, philodendrons, creeping figs, and peace lilies; vegetation with minute need for the sun, His little godling had woven his very essence so thoroughly throughout Kakashi’s cold world.

Iruka smoothed a palm down The Lord’s chest, lingering against the dark cotton on his lover’s stomach. “I’m glad you approve.” His lips brushed Kakashi’s, breathing warm puffs of air against pale skin with each word spoken.

The Lord of the Underworld took his godling’s invitation and claimed his mouth in a discordant, avaricious kiss. Soft lips parted easily beneath his, seeking with a hungry fervour that rivalled his own. Kakashi cupped his nape with one hand, fingers stroking through umber locks. The braid slid through his grasp and twisted around seeking fingers.

Iruka grasped his tunic’s hem, his fingers running hesitantly over the dark cotton. When his hands finally slid beneath to smooth across his lover’s lower abdomen, Kakashi openly growled into the kiss. His muscles flexed, a heady need coiled beneath the godling’s touch and shot right to his cock.

The God of Spring broke their kiss so suddenly, Kakashi was unaware until Iruka took a step back. He reached for him, chasing the receding warmth with the same urgent need he devoured his lover with. Iruka dropped to his knees, hands curving around Kakashi’s ribs as he pushed his tunic up. Kiss-plump lips pressed to his naval and followed the silverish trail across quivering muscled to his waistband.

Large hands slid through his hair, kneading through the snug weave of his plait. Each press of inexperienced lips wreaked havoc with Kakashi’s barely grasped self-control. Russet eyes, cloudy with pupils blown wide, flickered upward, seeking permission, solace, answers. He cupped his godling’s cheek in one palm, “You’re playing with fire, Iruka,” he cautioned. The only warning, the only chance to pull away, he’d give.

His little god stared up at him, blinking innocent and hesitant. Iruka’s hands smoothed across his hips, rubbing lightly through the soft cotton. Kakashi’s thumb brushed tenderly across bronze skin and caught at the edge of his facial scar. He drew in a deep, steady breath, bundling up his raging desire and forcing it down. “Stand up.”

The wicked grin that graced his lover’s lips threw Kakashi as much as his response. “No.” Tanned fingers hooked around his waistband, tugging breeches off pale hips with a quick yank. That dark head of woven bright flowers (carnations, lilacs and violets) dipped down and Iruka’s plait dropped from his fingers. Light nips and heated kissed pressed to his inner thigh, steadily working inward and up.

Kakashi’s back hit the wall with a grunt as a warm, moist heat closed around his cock head. His deity’s slender brows knitted together, a slight shudder quivering down his neck and shoulders. The taste took some getting used to, but Iruka was not so easily perturbed. Bronze hands curled against his breeches, fingers dug into the cotton riding low on his hips.

Carnal hunger coiled tight in Kakashi’s stomach, ebbing through his inner thighs and groin. His godling drew forth curses and snarls when he tongued the slit of his cock and lavished slow circles around the head and glands, each touch tentative, each taste experimental. Iruka mouthed down his lover’s cock, tongue flicking across velvet skin over solid muscle. The Lord of the Underworld burned with each searching kiss, lick, nibble, and suck. His head slammed back, fingers digging for purchase against the terra-cotta.

Kakashi drew hissing breaths through clenched teeth, thighs quivering with a steady build of wanton desire. When his little godling sucked his cock head back into his mouth, taking a few inches past teeth to press down firm on his tongue, the last vestiges of Kakashi’s self-control snapped like a finely dried twig.

Pale fingers pressed to the godling’s nape, forcefully cradling his head. Carnations tumbled from umber locks and lilacs crumbled beneath the demanding hold. Kakashi’s hips arched into the radiating heat half engulfing him, a demanding thrust pushed past Iruka’s tongue and struck the back of his throat.

A startled moan -half surprise, half longing- vibrated up his aching length. Muscles quivered and jolted around his cock. Iruka groaned again, struggling to adjust to the sudden intrusion. His little deity’s brows raised, then furrowed, eyes squeezed tight against the tears clinging to his lashes. Bronze skin flushed down past his neckline, the tint contrasting beautifully against cobalt silk.

A primal part of Kakashi’s brain purred with satisfaction. He burned from the inside out, utterly caught in the inferno of his one indulgence, his one weakness. A hand slid from soft locks to stroke along his godling’s flexing jugular and tensed jaw. Kakashi massaged the pliable flesh through soft trembles and muffled moans to ease the adjustment. When Iruka’s eyes slid open once more, the russet depths were half-lidded and dark with arousal.

A full body shudder rolled through Kakashi. “Fuck, _Iruka!_ ” The God of Spring moaned softly around him in response. The sound captivated his attention, filled his ears to drown out the world until all he could hear, all he could see was Iruka. His godling kneaded the Lord’s hips, trembling hands pressed into the dark cotton and tugged, urgent, needy, wanton. His tongue brushed along the underside of his lover’s cock, the tip pressing to the divet where sensitive glands met shaft.

Kakashi twisted his godling’s plait around his hand and pulled. Iruka shifted closer, a stifled keen rising from his throat on the first thrust. There was nothing gentle about the Lord. He urged, took and demanded, avaricious in his devotion of the beautiful entity knelt so pliant and eager before him. Heady mewls and moans blossomed from his little god each time he struck the back of his throat.

Moist heat dragged along throbbing, hypersensitive flesh, the sensation heightened by Iruka's tongue and the occasional drag of teeth. A heady groan rumbled through his chest and Kakashi burned, burned, burned, from the inside out. Each nerve ending sizzled in the inferno his body became. Iruka was the wick and flint, nubile, almost virtuous in his supple yearning for what Kakashi gave.

The brazen tilt of his deity’s head became his undoing. The last inch slid past plump lips as Iruka’s nose bore to sinewy, silver hair. An intoxicating moan resonated around his length, drawing a string of urgent curses from the Lord. “ _Fuck!"_ He ground out, muscles tensing as his release - so sudden and all consuming- seemed to wrack his entire being down to the core.

Iruka let out a surprised whine that dipped into a guttural moan. His throat constricted, the tendons jumping from the effort to swallow the thick load filling his mouth and throat. The God of Spring pulled back with a gasp, shoulders and chest heaving from deep inhales. Kakashi rubbed his knuckles soothingly across his jugular and jaw. A pink tongue darted across reddened, swollen lips. The skin at the corners of his mouth had darkened slightly, a sign the skin would likely bruise. His godling’s plait was a messy disarray, thick strands falling loose to curl and frame his flushed face. When those dark eyes finally slid open and locked on his face, Kakashi felt another jolt of lust make his spent cock jump. "...Kashi," Iruka rasped and swallowed hard. Those russet irises were blown wide and glassy with unbridled desire.

The Lord of the Underworld fell to his knees the moment his lover reached for him. He dropped like a parched wanderer beckoned by a siren and drank from the offered oasis he found in Iruka's embrace. Kakashi drew the young deity into his arms, hands smoothing down his back when Iruka pressed close and sought his mouth. "...I want-!" Kakashi cut off his words with a searing kiss. He tasted himself on his lover's lips as they parted beneath his own, welcoming and seeking, urgent and wanton. “...Kakashi.”

The God of Spring clung to his lover, azure and cobalt silk slid along Kakashi’s shoulders as Iruka grasped and arched into him. Two fingers pressed past the godling’s lip. Iruka’s tongue laved over calloused skin brazen in his need, teeth grazing the tips. Kakashi grazed his fangs over Iruka’s shoulder as his moistened fingers slipped down the back of his trousers.

His little god almost whimpered when the fingers circled his rim and pressed knuckle-deep inside. Iruka’s hips bucked back against Kakashi’s hand as those fingers curled to stroke against his inner walls. He caught his godling’s cries with his mouth, watching with astonished devotion as Iruka shuddered and rocked with the thrust of his fingers.

The Lord of the Underworld studied Iruka’s reaction each time they coupled; how the curl of a finger made him tremble and shudder, which spots needed to be kissed and bitten to make him moan, how hard to stroke, where to press, what to nip and lick to make him beg. He mesmerized each response, which seemed to feel the best, and used the knowledge to his advantage.

Kakashi kissed the exposed collarbone, tongue trailing across the healing bite marks and into the juncture where neck met shoulder. He pulled the godling's trousers off his hips, his free hand wrapping around the base of Iruka’s cock. “O-Oh…!!” A twist of the wrist and a rough jerk had his little deity screaming hoarsely in pleasure. “ _Kakashi_!!” Hips quivered and rocked between Kakashi’s hands, pushing back against the fingers inside him and thrust into the firm fist pumping his aching cock.

Iruka’s hand slipped beneath his tunic, dancing over the Lord’s back and raking down through to leave red lines behind. The bite of Iruka’s nails against his skin left Kakashi shuddering with renewed pleasure. He watched with utter devotion as his lover came alive like a burning sun, warm, wanton, and _his.  
_

So utterly his.

His little god was greedy in pursuit of his own ecstasy. Their lips met and parted, feverish and heated in the need to taste each other. He swallowed Iruka’s sharpening cries, drew the God of Spring deeper into his arms when his back arched and hips jutted forward in release.

Kakashi licked his seed from his fingers, eyes crinkling in amusement at the bright blush that filled Iruka’s flushed cheeks. All that, and _this_ is what embarrassed him. " _Shodai’s balls!”_ The flustered curse drew a sharp laugh from Kakashi. Fond warmth bloomed in the Lord’s chest for the young deity he held so tenderly. Bold and fearless, yet still inexperienced. He pressed his lips to Iruka’s forehead. That wouldn’t last much longer.

Iruka groaned softly, head tilting back for another kiss. “You’re impossible.”

Kakashi hummed in consideration, not bothering to deny the accusation. It wasn’t an entirely inaccurate observation, not that his little godling seemed to mind. Iruka put him at such ease and he found some of his more idiosyncratic traits slipped through every so often. “And you’re delightful.” He plucked a peace lily and tucked it behind Iruka’s ear.

His lover’s cheeks puffed out, but he simply shook his head and grinned. He poked a finger playfully to Kakashi’s chest. “Make sure you don’t forget tha-”

An overpowering aura rolled over them like an earthquake, unstoppable and destructive in its fury. “That’s-” Iruka paled, eyes widened in unbridled shock when he turned to his lover. One hand fisted into Kakashi’s cotton tunic. “Why is my father here?”

The Lord of the Underworld raised like the avenging dead, face hardened and eyes narrowed, a hand raised to call his armour to him. Obsidian and silver flew from the shadows, locking around his limbs and torso like a second skin. When he turned once more to his younger lover, any trace of tenderness was gone. “Stay here, the athenaeum is impregnable.”

Iruka clutched Kakashi’s hellhound mask to his chest, knuckles white from the tight grip he held on the ornamental faceplate. He kissed him gently, a lingering reminder of what they shared, then pulled the mask down into place. “Just… Be careful.”

The brush of knuckles against his cheek was the only response Iruka received before Kakashi was gone. Shadows wrapped around his lethal form, blocking Iruka from view. The lingering image of his sex-mussed lover, eyes dark with concern, burned deep in his mind.

“ _HATAKE!_ ”

The roar ate through his shadows and flames like an unquenchable parasite. Killing intent hung heavy in the throne room, clogging the air with enough force to bring a lesser god to their knees and pushing at every barrier seal that kept his private chambers separated from this semi-public space. Eons passed since guests were last entertained in this hallowed chamber.

The Lord of the Underworld stepped from an ebony inferno by the familial cathedral built high from the weapons of slain enemies. “You dare besmirch my domain, Shodai?”

The entire room shook with the might of Hashirama Senju’s fury. “ _Where is my son?_ ”

Kakashi’s eyes bled crimson against the threatening aura. Black fire shimmered around his form, his natural lightning affinity crackling through the dark flames. “Finally sired too many to keep track of, Senju?”

“Do not test my patience, _Reiketsu."_ The God of Gods roared in anger, the very foundations cracking beneath his feet. “Return my son.”

Kakashi’s scarred eye glowed frightfully cold. “No.” A low growl rumbled past the hellhound mask, the only warning his unwanted guest would receive. “ _Leave_.”

“Not without my boy!” Wooden spikes sharp enough to impale a titan jutted from the cracked foundation. Hashirama’s fingers, the same bronze as Iruka’s, closed around a spike. It morphed in his grasp, taking the form of a bident.

Black tomoe formed in his scarred eye, spinning dangerously. “Iruka is _mine_.”

Hashirama cursed, gathering tears made his russet eyes glassy. “You cannot keep him here, do you not understand that?” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, the loose strands falling over his shoulders. “My Blossom is the living embodiment of nature. He will perish without the sun.”

Lightning crackled around Kakashi’s fingertips. “ _He stays with me."_

The God of Gods drew in a sharp breath, dark eyes hardening. “Tenzo always thought too highly of you...” His aura spiked again, killing intent thickening the air around them. “You’re in violation of the creed, _Rokudaime_.”

The Lord’s aura spiked once, a powerful jolt to show just the tip of a raging inferno. Then it was gone, capped tightly and buried deep like so many other aspects of self he hid away for his own admonitions. “The _Rokudaime_ is dead.” Lightning crackled and hissed as it danced down his fingers to pool in a chirping mass against his palm.

Sage markings crisscrossed Hashirama’s skin, silent anger rolled with the suffocating killing intent filling Kakashi’s throne room. “Then there is no need for his husk to linger.”

The bident flew for his jugular with blinding speed. Kakashi raised a hand to intercept-

A pyracantha thicket bloomed around him, curling and rising so quickly, the bidant stuck between several white blossoms and disappeared into the spiky mass that grew, grew, grew, like a chimerical protector. Kakashi’s glowing eyes dimmed in surprised reverence, returning to the normal mismatched grey and red. _Firethorn._ His brain supplied with ever growing fondness. _Another excellent choice._

“How _dare_ you, Father!” And there was his foolish, fiercely brave, little godling, wrapped in cerise and azure silks and looking every bit as wildly fucked as Kakashi left him. His half-ruined plait hung heavily over one shoulder, escaped strands curling against flushed cheeks and sticking haphazardly out of the braid’s weave. The corners of his mouth had indeed bruised, though Iruka didn’t seem to notice or care.

“Oh, my darling boy!” The young deity ignored his sire’s cry, side-stepping Hashirama’s lunging embrace with practiced ease. The dark, warning look he turned on his father stopped the God of Gods in his tracks. Hashirama sniffled, tears brimming in his eyes. His aura dipped with the change of emotion. “...What’s wrong, Blossom?”

The God of Spring’s face lit scarlet, the colour flooding right to the tips of his ears. “Don’t call me that!” He chastised his sire. At that moment, Kakashi saw exactly how much they looked alike. Same expressive face, russet hair and eyes, bronzed skin and body type. “What are you doing here, Father? This isn’t your domain. You can’t just go throwing your aura about so brazenly. Neither Mother nor Tobirama would approve. Reign it in!”

“Enough, My Blossom.” Hashirama’s anger spiked at his son’s blatant gall. “I’ve come to take you home.” He reached for Iruka’s hand.

With a jerk of his wrist, the godling pulled away from his sire. “You never listen! I’m not going to leave Kakashi! I don’t want to.”

“You can't stay in Tartarus, you’re a being of nature.”

“I can and I will.” Iruka took a step back, then another when Hashirama reached for him again. “You can't keep me confined in Konoha forever! I make my own choices now.”

“ _Iruka_!”

Dark satisfaction curled in Kakashi’s chest as his little deity slipped between the pyracantha barrier. Bronze hands pulled the hellhound mask down, tear-brimmed, russet eyes searching his face in concern. “I felt your aura spike.” Iruka pressed his cheek to Kakashi’s. “I-I thought…”

The Lord of the Underworld slipped an arm around Iruka’s waist. Large fingers splayed across the cobalt silk at his lower back, possessive and triumphant. “All is well, Little One.” Iruka’s eyes fluttered closed as Kakashi drew him for a telling kiss. His mismatched gaze bore victoriously into Hashirama’s devastated face over Iruka’s shoulder.

Iruka was _his_.

_No one would take his sunshine again._

A tiny whimper escaped the God of Gods as a few tears slipped down his cheeks. The killing intent dwindled away in defeat, the light dimming in Hashirama’s eyes. Without a word, branches grew from the split foundation to envelop the almighty god in cypress. With a final, lingering look at his son’s back, Hashirama disappeared in a flurry of timber and foliage. 


End file.
